To walk, to wander about, is to open yourself up to discovery; often the new things you find are within–new ideas, new solutions to problems; sometimes there are discoveries of physical things, of places that delight, even in your own neighborhood. That was the gift I received last Tuesday.

I woke up feeling blah, my energy low, and I had no plan for where I would walk. I knew I needed to keep at my goal of disciplined hiking to prepare for the Camino next summer. But the energy zap of dealing with the loss of a relationship, and even the good stress of preparing for the holidays, had me feeling like I just couldn’t push through that day.

Finally, after my two cups of coffee, morning Advent reading, and eggs with oatmeal, I told myself, “Just walk.” I wouldn’t bother to get in the car and drive to the park or a nature trail; I’d head down the road with my loaded up backpack and hiking poles and explore the farmland and forested areas near my house. Over the past year of living in Apex, I would walk in the edge of a nearby field under the large hardwood trees. I’d look down Tingen Road which reminded me of the road to Grandma Smith’s house. Back when I was a girl and we’d visit her on Sundays, we’d drive down that quiet country road of open land with wood-frame houses and barns, flanked by rows of garden and crops.

Why not have a new adventure and walk across that field to the tree I’ve seen in the distance for the past year, I thought. I didn’t know who owned the land, but what person would object to an ‘Older Woman,’ a serious hiker with gear, doing no harm, walking across their land?

It was a gorgeous morning with only a few cotton ball-shaped clouds in a Carolina blue sky. Making headway toward the tree, the cool air and my quickening steps began to infuse me with energy. Reaching the tree, I looked back across that long fallow field I’d just crossed for the first time. Now, in the distance was the stand of hardwoods that had been my go-to place in nature, a break from townhomes and parking lots. I took off my backpack and walked around in the broomsedge–remembering how we played in golden fields like that as children.

After I’d explored that field near the tree, I crossed the road to another area that I hadn’t seen. Down the hill in the distance, a tobacco barn was almost hidden by the trees. On our farm, we’d had three tobacco barns and seeing that one reminded me of those hot summer days when we spent long hours harvesting the crop–that was both work and socializing.

I looked in the door of the barn and there was a pile of old burners, tires, and debris from the bygone days of farming that land. I could imagine the poles that crossed the barn laden down with the heavy sticks of green tobacco waiting to be cured from the heat of those once-operating burners.

Down the hill from the barn was a pond that had likely been used for irrigation and afternoons of fishing. Our pond was smaller than that broad pool of water that reflected the peacefulness of the December day.

Walking up the hill, I saw a posting that I knew would be somewhere on the property– but had chosen to disregard. We had plenty of hunters and others who walked our farm and they never got into trouble for trespassing; guess I wouldn’t either.

My hiking poles came in handy as I trudged the uneven ground of the field and then explored acres of pine trees. How cool it was in the shade of their canopy. I hadn’t seen a single person, and there had been no bicyclist or cars to pass on the two-lane road. My walk of discovery had infused me with energy and had introduced me to a new land that was just down the road. My mood had brightened and my focus on ‘my little world’ had broadened to see the bigger picture of what was around me.

I think now about a quote by John Muir, the Scottish-born co-founder of the Sierra Club and major figure in conservation and the creation of our national parks:

“In every walk with nature, one receives far more than he seeks.”

That was true last Tuesday; and if I look closely, it’s probably true of most other times I’ve walked in fields and forest. And in the week ahead, I think I’ll return to that new land so close by and see what discoveries I can make.

Best to you in the week ahead in whatever new ground you’re exploring,

Connie